


Self Control

by Anonymous



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Agent Stone has a depressive episode and Robotnik stages an intervention, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist!Stone, Depression, Dermatillomania, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, HUGE trigger warnings on this one boys, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Trans Male Character, depressive episodes, especially robotnik, theyre both ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Agent Stone, I regret to inform you that you have been removed from your position as my personal agent.  This is effective immediately"It's been three months.  Agent Stone isn't doing well.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77
Collections: Anonymous





	Self Control

**Author's Note:**

> I'm getting back into writing and got really sad tonight so I decided to write something sad. Please read the tags, if any of this upsets or triggers you, do not read this. I hope you enjoy this.

It was cold in his room. That’s why he told himself it was normal for him to be bundled up the way he was. He wore sweatpants that used to fit him, ones that didn’t match the sweatshirt layered over his shirt and binder. A month ago he put three fluffy blankets over the weighted blanket on his bed. He sat under them as he stared up at his ceiling fan. It ran on the highest setting. 

Stone shook hard as he moved his heaping blankets away from himself and sat up. It took more effort than it should’ve to stand up, and even then he wobbled unsteadily. The trip to the bathroom was similarly unsteady. The door creaked loudly as he shut it behind him. He was home alone, but he still felt the shame of being witnessed by the yawning darkness of the hallway. He stripped off his sweater and shirt, before closing the lid to the toilet and sitting down. He apathetically ripped off the old testosterone patch on his bicep, no longer wincing at the sting. The box of new patches behind him fell as he picked one out. He didn’t pick it up. As he stood up again to stumble back to bed, he made the mistake of glancing at the mirror. And he froze. He remembered once again what got him into this situation three months ago.

_ “Agent Stone, come here.” Doctor Robotnik was strangely flat as he spoke to the smaller man. He sat formally in his rolling chair, not lounging or curled up like he always was. His face almost looked… sorrowful.  _

_ The agent strolled hesitantly to stand before the man in the chair. He smiled placidly as always, expression never betraying his confusion. He was the pinnacle of self control.  _

_ “Stone, I regret to inform you that you have been removed from your position as my personal agent. This is effective immediately, and you are excused to go home now” The Agent’s smile didn’t falter. His breath certainly didn’t hitch in his throat.  _

_ “Yes doctor. Thank you for your time.” He carefully, intentionally turned his back to the doctor and stepped out of the mobile lab. _

He had been briefly reassigned to keep an eye on the Wachowskis from a secretive distance. After slipping up and being spotted (But thankfully not recognized), He was given an indefinite paid leave from work. The time at home had not been good for him. He was aware of this. It had been a week without leaving his house before he stopped exercising. Two days after that he cut his diet to combat weight gain. After all, he was completely in control. At first he ate sparse fruits and vegetables. Now he was down to one protein shake per day. He wasn’t showering as often as he would’ve liked to. It was only on the second week that he began to sleep in his binder. He didn’t remember the last time he took his antidepressants, let alone his anxiety meds. 

His lack of self care showed when he looked in the mirror. He had always been on the chubbier side. His stomach had been soft, even when his biceps strained against the arms of his suit and his thigh muscles filled his slacks. Now he could see the last few ribs from beneath his half-tank binder. His hipbones were clearly visible above the low waistline of his oversized sweatpants. They used to fit him. The cleanly-shaven beard he had sported since it first grew was gone. It had grown out just like the hair atop his head, which brushed the tips of his ears now. He could see bruises peeking from under his binder, and was afraid of what he would see if he took it off. And, in his opinion, the worst of all. His dermatillomania had flared up as a consequence of stopping his anxiety meds. Scabs littered his face and upper arms. Red welts had risen across his cheeks and on his temples where he had picked at the acne arising from his less-often showers.

He breathed in shakily, ignoring the pang of pain it caused from his ribs. With a shake of his head to clear his mind, he put back on his shirt and sweater and returned to the hallway. He passed his room, subconsciously heading for the kitchen. A cringe distorted his face when his stomach growled painfully. He may as well play along and have his protein shake. It wouldn’t be giving in, he never gave in. He was the pinnacle of self control. But upon opening the fridge, it was empty. He had long thrown out anything that wasn’t bottled water or protein shakes, but the last of the shakes were gone. An emotionless sigh left him, and he sat down at the dining table after closing the fridge door. His hand absentmindedly raised to his cheek, where his too-long nails scratched at a scab. When it bled he simply moved to another one.

He didn’t notice his breath speeding up. He didn’t notice the hand that curled in his hair and gripped it hard, nor the other one that followed. The breath caught in his throat and left him with a whiny sound. This is what he noticed. He hated making noise. This sentiment was ignored when a soft cry left him. Oh no. This hadn’t happened since he was first laid off. When he went home that night and sobbed into his pillows. He would never see the man he loved again. He would never see his friend again. Robotnik was the only friend Stone had, and the only one that cared about him. He sobbed loudly. With his family having disowned him when he came out in college, he had nobody. He was completely and utterly alone. Why was he still here?

He didn’t notice he was holding his breath to stop the noises. That’s why he was left confused when he woke up on the floor of his kitchen near the tipped dining table chair. He must have passed out. What an irritating waste of time. He had to get something productive done.

Since being laid off he had been drawing more often. He felt bad not doing anything, and the only thing he could bring himself to do every day was draw. Lately it had been studies. Every figure study he did ended up in an eccentric outfit and with a mustache. He didn’t think about the implications of this. His sketchbook was already on his bed, and pencils lay scattered outside of their case across the blankets. He barely had time to lay a pencil to the paper when his doorbell rang. He froze. 

Shit.

He was in no condition to be seeing others. And it was probably just the mail. But what if it wasn’t? He shakily jumped up from his bed once again and scurried to the front door. With a deep breath, he ignored his own appearance. He pulled open the door.

“Agent Stone, how-” The doctor was cut off by his own gasp. What happened to him? He was gaunt, and there was a patch of dried blood on his cheek. Scabs permeated the skin of his face, and deep dark circles stood out from under his eyes. He was far from the well groomed agent that Robotnik knew. And… he stunk. Literally. The doctor recognized this.

“H-hello doctor, I- what are you doing here?” He felt sick. Why was he here- oh god he had to be judging him. He worked so hard to stay presentable for the doctor. He looked like garbage.

“I had news for you, but you’re not in the state to be receiving it. Let’s get you cleaned up. Give me a moment to get something from my car please.” Stone barely registered what the taller man had said. He watched with glassy eyes as he hastily grabbed an unassuming box from the back of his car and returned to the door. “May I come in?” He nodded, numb. The lanky man stepped over the threshold of his doorway, and looked cautiously around the house. It wasn’t very dirty, but it was concerningly bare. No decorations, no pets. He placed his hand on Stone’s shoulder, ignoring the flinch it invoked.

“Where is your bathroom?” Stone looked at him with his big, glassy eyes. They were the same ones he had seen months ago, but the face surrounding them was alarmingly unfamiliar. He was led down a short hallway to the room at the end. He couldn’t help but take a peek through an open door and saw Stone’s room. It was different from the rest of the house. At least four heavy blankets lay askew atop a small bed, which was littered with pencils. A sketchbook sat on the bed. He caught a glimpse of papers taped to the wall before Stone stepped into his view and cleared his throat. They continued to the bathroom.

“I’m going to run a bath. Please get undressed.”

“Doctor I-” The other man set the box down onto the countertop, revealing it to be a first aid kit when he opened it before looking at him with kinder eyes than he’s ever seen on him.

“Don’t be shy, agent. I’ve seen worse. I’ve been worse.” At this, agent Stone began undressing. The sound of running water hit his ears, and he watched Robotnik pour in some of the liquid body soap he kept on the countertop. He hesitated when he got down to his underwear and binder. But he was reminded of that softened expression and what had been ordered of him, and pulled them off.

Another gasp made him look at the doctor. He had glanced back at Stone and was pained by what he saw. He was bony, so much thinner than he knew he used to be. The bruises on his ribs scared him. He had been sleeping in his binder. 

“Oh, Stone. Look what’s happened to you.” His voice held so much emotion in it. So much understanding. It brought tears to Stone’s eyes. He had still been too shocked by the doctor showing up to process what was going on. But now, he huffed as tears streamed down his face. The other man wrapped his arms around the agent’s bare shoulders. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’ll get you taken care of. We’ll figure this out.” He slowly released him with a few more comforting hums. “Please get in the bathtub, tell me if it’s too hot for you.” He turned off the faucet.

Agent Stone hissed as he sunk into the water. He hadn’t escaped the cold of his house in a long time.

“It feels good.” Robotnik smiled. 

“I’m going to clean you now, is that alright with you?” At Stone’s nod, he spoke again. “Just tell me if you’re not comfortable with me touching anywhere.” He grabbed the bar of soap sitting on the soap ledge and dunked it under water before getting to work scrubbing Stone’s back. 

“Okay. You’re going through a really tough time right now. But we can get you out of this. I’ll be here every step of the way.” Stone looked at him confusedly.

“Why are you doing this?” It was Robotnik’s turn to be confused. “I mean, you’ve always been disgusted by human emotions. You don’t care about humans, and see weakness as a liability.” The doctor quickly shook his head.

“That’s wrong for several reasons, but let me explain. I don’t prioritize my machines over other people. I just find them easier. I struggle with interaction, and i’ve never grown comfortable with the unpredictability of the human mind. Along with this, you’re different. I care about you. You’ve helped me through some of my worst times without even knowing it. And finally, i’ve been in your shoes.” Stone furrowed his brows. “Yes, I have. When I was a teenager I had an episode like this. I had a few, in fact. The only difference was that I had nobody to help pull me out of it. I was all alone with foster parents that hated me and no friends to even think about. So i’m going to help you through this, because I care.” The agent sniffled, emotional again. The doctor cared. He asked for the soap to clean his own chest.

“What- what news did you have for me?” Robotnik sighed.

“Well, I was going to tell you that i’m accepting you back as my agent, if you’ll take it. But we need to work on you first. I’m not taking you back unless you’re in the shape you were before you left. I can’t do that to you.” Stone gasped. And then he smiled.

“Yes- yes I accept it! I would love to go back. When… when i’m better of course. But why did I have to leave in the first place? I’m sorry if it’s classified.” The doctor smiled.

“No, it’s not classified. A little embarrassing on my behalf however. But I think we’re past that. I requested that you be repositioned. Before you think anything of this-let me explain. It didn’t feel right to keep making you work for me. I violated our professional agreement. I fell in love with you, Stone.”

“Don’t play with me like that.”

“I would never. I couldn’t keep working with you knowing I had violated your trust. I knew if you found out you would be uncomfortable, and since I love you I would never want that to happen. But I came to you because I can’t be without you. I need you in my life, no matter how selfish it is. I’m sorry.” He finally pulled back his arm from where he had been cleaning the last of Stone’s body. The other man that looked up at him with wet, loving eyes.

“I love you too doctor. So much.” They smiled at each other. It would take time, but everything would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please comment something nice or something I could improve upon! I really appreciate feedback as long as it's delivered nicely.


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